Snake Eyes
by Julia Spiegel
Summary: The rolling of the dices, the spinning of the slot machines, and the gunshots of assassins out to get Spike.


Disclaimer: I don't own anything.  
  
This takes place some time after Asteroid Blues.  
  
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SNAKE EYES  
  
  
  
  
  
Black background......  
  
Two dices falling in slow motion....  
  
Echo.......  
  
****  
  
POW!!  
  
"AHH!" The boxer retorted from the blow.  
  
POW!!  
  
"AHH!" Blood spurted from his mouth, sweat rolling down his back, soaking him.  
  
POW!!  
  
Again and again the punches kept rolling in. And more and more blood came from him. He could see a grin on his opponent's face through all the sweat.  
  
POW!!!!!  
  
Blood flew out like a hose out of his mouth, and he flew across the ring like a dead corpse.  
  
The crowd roared with glee and his opponent raised his arms in the air and screaming in victory, while he was lying on the ring in a huge puddle of blood with arms stretched out like a cross, eyes almost shut completely because of bruises. His career was definitely over.  
  
****  
  
Spike watched with amazement in the audience. Surely that guy was dead, but he wasn't sure. There was something in the victor's eyes that didn't seem so honest.  
  
BANG!!  
  
BANG!!  
  
BANG!!  
  
A screeching shriek filled Spike's ears. People running in all directions but couldn't, even more people were in the way. Everyone tried to scramble out of the arena like frantic bugs.  
  
"HEY!! Watch where the fuck you're going!!" Spike complained when someone pushed him into another person who pushed him into another before he could finally balance himself. He hated it when people got jumpy and frightened, they turn into nothing but selfishness and not caring for others but themselves. That's one thing he hated about human nature.  
  
*static*  
  
"Hey Spike!" Jet called from the walkie talkie. Spike took it out from his pocket.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"I got some useful info on our target." Jet said, smiling.  
  
"Hey watch it!" Spike snapped at another person who went into him.  
  
"Oh! Sorry sir!" The teenage boy apologized and started to push other people out of his way rudely.  
  
*CRACK!*  
  
"Oh shit...."  
  
'That son of a bitch broke my phone...Now Jet's gonna be even more pissed at me!' Spike thought.  
  
Right before they were gonna leave to catch their next bounty, which was here in the casino/hotel. Jet had told him not to gamble because as usual, he'd lose all his money. But being the lunkhead he is, he wanted to have some fun - Jet would still not let him play a single game; or bet a tiny cent. Then the argument went on and Spike got fed up and walked out on Jet. Now that Jet actually called on him it was a good sign....but then the son of a bitch teen broke it.  
  
Tough luck.  
  
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He walked into the brightly lit casino.  
  
The ringing of winning prizes, the sound of slot machines, the joyous cries of people at the craps tables, money being thrown around, damn did it feel good to be around money!, Spike felt. But the bad part was, none of it was his, except the bit that was in his pocket.  
  
He was walking through the many card game and craps tables and slot machines, looking for at least something suspicious that had to do with the gunshots earlier.  
  
"Hello good sir! Would you care to play a few rounds?!" A blackjack dealer asked him.  
  
"Sorry, but no thanks." Spike replied with a grin.  
  
As he turned back around to continue on strolling, he brushed his shoulder by accident against a waitress with short black hair wearing a tight, red dress. She winked at him and walked away swiftly but at the same time seductively, with her tray of drinks in one hand. After one blink she was out of sight. Spike walked up an elegant flight of stairs, flipping a coin continuously in his hand and whistling.  
  
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He was now walking in the luxuriously decorated halls of the hotel section of the building. Noble red painted walls, gold embroidered doors, and a nice elaborate gold decoration on the royal purple carpeting.  
  
It was eerily silent, and there was absolutely no sign of anyone around. The hall just droned on and on with its intricate but monotonous design, never seeming to end. The only sounds heard were Spike's feet and his whistling. His head was way up high in the clouds, thinking about the girl he saw downstairs.  
  
*thump*  
  
"I'm sorry, I guess my foot got in your way." Spike said sarcastically and looked down at the man in a gray and black suit with dark sunglasses who had tripped on his foot.  
  
The man got up quickly and attempted to punch him many times, but Spike blocked every one. He then tried to kick him, but Spike blocked that too.  
  
"Haha! You really need to practice your skills, not that you have any." He smirked.  
  
*whoosh*  
  
Another guy in the same ensemble as the other tried to punch him in the head but he dodged it.  
  
"AAAHH!!" The man screamed as Spike kicked him in the chin, sending him to the floor and elbowed the other guy, now also on the floor. He heard the footsteps of several other men running in his direction and turned around.  
  
"HIIIYYAA!!" Yet another guy fly-kicked in the air. Once that guy was at a perfect angle to the wall he punched him straight into it, hearing the crack of a rib. The other men came with black bats. Spike punched one in the face, breaking his sunglasses and blood flying out of his eye. He then jumped up and kicked the three others, breaking a door down and revealing a hotel room. They were all knocked out cold.  
  
Spike clapped the dust off his hands and grinned at his work - five guys all wearing the same clothes out cold on the floor. He walked up to the mini-fridge at the wall to get a nice drink.  
  
*pow!*  
  
Spike turned around with lightning speed and punched the man right in his guts. You could hear the ripping of his intestines. He punched another man to his side in the nose, grabbed another and jammed him into yet another man, gradually moving towards the bathroom door. Another guy came. Spike stepped to the side and let the man through the open door, slamming it behind the man's back - perhaps breaking it.  
  
*shatter!*  
  
He fell face first onto the tile floor, along with the shattered pieces of the green glass bottle. Five more men in black and gray suits laughing down on him.  
  
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TO.............  
  
BE...............  
  
CONTINUED.................  
  
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Damn this was fun to write! It could've been released earlier, if I had the heart to get my lazy ass onto the computer and start writing. ^_- 


End file.
